Eightfold Path
by InformalSpoofer
Summary: Aang learns his people's religion.


Eightfold Path

A wheel turns.

A flame passes on, wax from the old long cooled before the little fire has made its mark on the new.

The Avatar is reborn.

-

Aang sits in front of an old monk whose smile takes the whole of his face. "Little Airbender," he says, benevolent, "when you are old enough, you may choose to leave the monastery. You will never be kept here against your will. But we have some things to teach you."

-

Each week he is given a little bit of parchment to practice numbers and calligraphy. He spends his time meticulously writing the Four Noble Truths Monk Gyatso taught him; while they dry on the parchment he sticks his tongue between his teeth and tries to pick out their meaning.

So young, it's hard to grasp even the first. That life is suffering seems like a joke, or a very melodramatic response to life. Sure, sometimes the portions are thin and sometimes it's too cold to sleep alone, but life is wonderful - there's so many things to see and do; there's so much to learn. Joy makes him dizzy.

Then Monk Gyatso takes him out of the temple, and he thinks he might understand a little better. Hungry children lurk in alleyways, dirty palms closed in preemptive defense. Women and men argue on the street; the stench of bodies makes him monitor the airflow in front of his face so carefully that Gyatso compliments him, chuckling.

Life means suffering, he repeats to himself. Even back in the clouds, riding Anil, the knowledge sits heavy on his heart. He wants to help.

When he explains the mixed-up guilty feeling he has low in his stomach, his master rubs his head and smiles, the corner of his eyes wrinkling. "That is quite the trick of the heart, isn't it?" Aang wonders if he's about to be admonished. "And a noble struggle."

Aang returns the smile.

-

Most of Aang's time goes into Airbending practice - he's really, really good at it, which is great because it's the most fun, too. The texts Gyatso sets before him are all long-winded and lack the enchantment that story-tellers offer. Meditation is only fun if Aang really has something to think about, like the time he killed a bug and Gyatso sat him down and elaborated on the five precepts and why they're so important.

Aang felt bad right after he'd done it, anyway - he was only curious - but when Gyatso explains about violence turning over violence and peace turning over peace, Aang thinks he understands why he felt so bad. Gyatso makes mental peace sound so wonderful, like laying in the greenest field and eating the freshest moon peaches with a good friend. Only better.

Violent thoughts, he writes down, lead to violent actions, which leads to pain. Internal pain, too, as the mind tries to reconcile itself with the deeds.

Aang is very careful to keep his curiosity productive and peaceful after that, and soon it's not an effort at all.

-

The room for the tattooing ceremony is one Aang's never been in. No one's allowed in except for masters, their ascending pupils, and one helper. The first thing Aang sees is a mural of Buddha, the first Airbender, hands held at his forehead, expression serene. He recognizes the pose to mean supreme enlightenment, the ascension to Nirvana, which is the plane past the Spirit World, and all the pride he felt for achieving mastery sloughs out his feet.

The second thing he sees is the table he is to lay on - it's circular, painted as the wheel of Samsara. There are several small bowls around the great wheel, some filled with ink, others empty. There are two buckets - one full of clear water, the second empty. There is no food. They won't leave the room in two days; he will emerge one click of the wheel further in his spirituality, and the thought calms the last traces of nerves.

He steps forward. His mind is as clear as an open field.

-

Firelord Ozai writhes on the ground, hair striking his cheeks. The Avatar is furious, a maelstrom of rage and pain, every injustice of the last hundred (thousand, ten thousand) years sheared open. Inside, Aang watches, hears his friend's voices, the voices of those before him. He tries to tell himself that this is the only option. This is justice. This is balance.

But he can't bring his hand down. The Avatars hush and the maelstrom fades. He thinks of Gyatso, and drops.

_The cessation of suffering is attainable,_ Aang thinks. He presses his hands to Firelord Ozai's forehead and heart (insight and love).

May peace beget peace.


End file.
